Wicked Destiny: A Reverse Harem Urban Fantasy Series (Wicked Witches Book 1)

by L. C. Hibbett

  “Like you,” I said.

  Aoife grimaced. “Like me. And after your mother vanished, he closed the doors of the school to anyone outside his clan too.” She ran her finger over the photograph. “No more graduation balls or formal dances.”

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me your old flame was in the coven. Do you like him? Is she single?” I asked.

  “Magnus is married to his work, Destiny, and he’s a very busy man. All that nonsense was child’s play.” Aoife’s cheeks burned as she fidgeted with the corner of the album.

  “Oh, my gods.” I squeezed her knee. “You totally have the hots for the Coven Leader. Why didn’t you tell me you were interested in somebody? You nag me and nag me about Nick, but you never even mentioned the silver-haired fox you were lusting after—sneaky snake.”

  “Who’s Nick?” Peggy asked.

  Elizabeth tilted her head to one side like a majestic bird of prey. “Does Patrick Joyce know about Nick?”

  Peggy gave Elizabeth a knowing look. “It’s Patrick Joyce, what do you think?”

  “True,” said Elizabeth. “He knows.” She turned back to me. “So, you, Patrick, and Nick?”

  I held my palms out. “Whoa, stop right there. There’s no Patrick and Nick, or me and Nick, or me and Patrick—there’s no me and anyone. This right here is a man-free zone. Hang a sign around my neck, I don’t need the hassle. Number one priority is finding these missing kids, getting accepted into the coven, and finding somewhere permanent to settle so Saoirse can have a proper home. There’s no room in my life for men.”

  Peggy and Elizabeth looked at me without blinking and then turned to Aoife. Peggy took a strawberry and dipped it into a bowl of chocolate spread. “Aoife, is Nick the big handsome brute of a shifter you introduced us to at the market last month?”

  “The very one,” Aoife said. “I tried to tell her he was making eyes at her but it was like talking to a brick wall.”

  I crossed my arms. “He was my boss. And let’s not forget, he’s a fucking spy for the Guild!”

  Aoife continued like I hadn’t spoken. “He was constantly making excuses why she needed to work extra hours or help him with his little girl’s homework.”

  “He’s a father?” Elizabeth asked. Aoife nodded and Elizabeth gave an approving hum. “Big, handsome, and a daddy. And you know what they say about tiger shifters?” She raised her brows and glanced down at my crotch while spreading her hands further apart. I jumped off the chair so fast I knocked my teacup off the table. Elizabeth traced a rune in the air with lightning speed and the cup froze before it hit the ground.

  I plucked it from midair and placed it in the sink. “Much as I’m enjoying this incredibly disturbing conversation, I’d better clear away these dishes. Patrick’s collecting me at a quarter to nine so—”

  As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. Elizabeth traced another rune and the kitchen was spotless once more—dishes sparkling and back in their place, all traces of food and Saoirse’s mess entirely gone. Peggy winked at me. “Now, you can sit back down and chat until Patrick gets here.”

  “Or you can put on some lipstick from the press in the bathroom if you like?” Elizabeth offered. “I have an unopened tube of Bubblegum Dream that would look incredible on a blond.”

  I lifted the ends of my fiery red hair and squinted at her. “You want me to dye my hair while I’m at it? I’m not a blonde.”

  “But Patrick is.” Elizabeth smirked. “And if you two were to share a little kiss…”

  Peggy clapped her hands together with delight. “Oh, young love. Is there anything sweeter? Did you see him smiling at her when they were saying goodbye last night? In all the years I’ve known the boy, he’s never smiled.”

  “I wasn’t certain he knew how to smile,” Elizabeth said. “Such a strange boy.”

  Aoife shook her head. “It’s a lonely gift. I was terribly fond of him, he was awfully kind to me when I was recovering from the trial of fire in the convalescence home. I missed him when he disappeared, not that I blamed him, I’d have pissed off away from all the coven members too. I mean, I know Kathleen is a stickler for the rules, but she practically raised the poor divil—such a slap in the face for him.”

  I took a step closer to the table, despite myself. “What’s she like, Patrick’s foster mom? He didn’t seem that mad at her for voting against him when he petitioned. He said he didn’t expect her to let him join.”

  “No, I can’t say anyone was surprised,” Aoife said, frowning. “Kathleen is a single-minded sort of woman, Destiny.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Very powerful.”

  “Yes, and very skilled. She’s completely fixated on strengthening the coven, certain there’s a darkness ahead and the Free Witches must be strong enough to weather the storm, that kind of nonsense.” Aoife twisted her teacup around by the handle. “I suppose it’s one of the downsides of a coven like this—it attracts so many waifs and strays. Damaged people can be mended but the cracks always show eventually.” She tapped her cane on the floor. “I should know.”

  I folded my arms. “I’m having a hard time imagining Patrick’s mother as either a waif or a stray.”

  “Oh but she was, my dear,” Elizabeth said. “When I worked in the convalescence home, the older nurses used to tell stories about when she first arrived. The selkies fished her out of the ocean at Barna, howling and crying for her mother. She kept trying to escape back to the sea. Thought she could swim back home and save her mother.”

  “Back to Wales. It’d be quite a swim—wrong sea for a start.” Peggy shook her head.

  “How did she end up in the Atlantic ocean if she was coming from Wales?” I asked.

  Elizabeth shook her head. “The nurses don’t think she’d come from Wales at all. She was a very confused and troubled little girl, terrified to use her magic in case the gods hunted her down. More than likely, she was born to a human mother who cast her aside in fear once her powers developed—children are so vulnerable in this world.”

  “It’s a wonder she came so far from such a start, really,” Aoife said. “And if a burning desire to protect the coven is her greatest fault, I guess she’s no worse than the rest of us. None of us are perfect.”

  Peggy huffed. “Protect the coven. The coven needs to be protected from itself! Sometimes, I think these newcomers forget what the Free Witches were about in the first place; living free from the gods and having enough collective strength to stop us from being at the mercy of their immortal whims. If the fanatics carry on obsessing about the purity of the coven, they’ll be as bad as the gods themselves.”

  “Newcomers?” I asked.

  Elizabeth grinned. “Peggy means people like Kathleen, and your aunt, and me—everyone who wasn’t born to the Free Witches and had to petition to join the coven.”

  “Not people like you. You’re normal. And beautiful.” Peggy leaned over the table and planted a kiss on Elizabeth’s lips just as the doorbell rang. I bounced across the floor and bent down to nuzzle Saoirse’s neck and whisper that I’d be back soon. Peggy shuffled to her feet. “I’ll let young Patrick in; he might want a cup of tea before you meet those poor creatures.”

  “No!” I gave Saoirse a final squeeze and grabbed my rucksack and jacket from the corner. “No, thank you very much. I have absolutely no intention of letting that man anywhere near you three and your overactive imaginations. Have a lovely day, ladies. Please don’t corrupt my daughter’s pure mind while I’m gone.”

  I blew Aoife a kiss as I galloped down the stairs and opened the door. Patrick was leaning against a street lamp. He wasn’t wearing the blue sweater anymore, and he looked more ordinary and safe in a plain shirt and jeans. His face was paler in the morning light and the skin under his eyes was dark. He peeled himself away from the lamp post and started to move along the pavement without as much as a hello. I pursed my lips as I slammed the door and hurried after him.

  “You’re late.” Patrick flashed his
watch at me.

  I resisted the urge to shoulder him into the street. It would have pointless anyway; there were no cars in the Silent Quarter to mow him down. “You said a quarter to nine. It’s a quarter to nine. I answered as soon as you rang the bell.”

  “I rang the doorbell at a quarter to nine, you came down at thirteen minutes to nine, and it’s now almost eight minutes to nine. You should have been outside the door at the agreed time.” Patrick crossed the street without warning and cut through an alleyway that didn’t exist in modern Galway. I shoved my hands into my pockets and stopped at end of the alley. Patrick shot me an irritated glance. “Hurry up, Destiny. You’ve delayed us enough.”

  I raised my eyebrows and glared at him in silence. I didn’t move. He threw his hands in the air. “What?”

  “What the hell is your problem, Patrick?” I said. “You’re being a total prick. And I have absolutely no fucking clue how we’re supposed to start looking for these kids, but the last thing the families need is some grumpy asshole snapping their heads off, so cop yourself on. Now, please.”

  Patrick’s shoulders sagged and he ground the heels of his hands against his eyes. When he looked up again, I almost regretted my outburst. He looked awful. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be a wanker. I’m tired. I couldn’t sleep last night. There was something crying outside the house, a cat, or a fox—something. And my head’s been pounding all morning. Kathleen used a rune to try and ease the pain, but I can’t shake it. I’ll get a double expresso when we get to Galway. And I’ll try to be less of an arse if you just move. Please?”

  “Much less of an arse?” I asked, walking toward him.

  Patrick’s lips tilted upward. “I can guarantee a fifty percent reduction in my asshole levels.”

  “It would take a ninety-nine percent reduction to get you down to an acceptable level of wankerness, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers and all that,” I said. Patrick’s laugh startled a young witch wearing a business suit and she shot him a curious glance as she hurried past us toward the corner of Shop Street where a crowd of ten or more coven members stood waiting for us. The sudden rush of happiness Patrick’s laugh had given me was dampened by the sight of the parents’ anxious faces.

  I grabbed Patrick’s arm. “Patrick, what are we doing? How are we going to find these kids? Can you get your visions on demand? I mean, I’ve got pretty decent red magic skills, but I’m no master tracker or wolf shifter. And we’ve only got until the new moon, you heard what Magnus said—if we don’t find them before your foster mother is instated, she’s not going to offer me the sanctuary of the coven. And even if I manage to hide from my father until I turn twenty-one, she’ll probably deny my petition because I’m too much of a risk for the coven with my stupid black magic. I have to get in while Magnus is still in charge.”

  Patrick linked his fingers through mine and eased me along the street toward where the parents had gathered. “Come on, stop freaking out. I’ve already spread the message about where I want them to meet us once they get to the city.”

  By the time we’d reached the door, the parents had all passed through. Patrick eased the rune coin out of his pocket and gave me a reassuring smile as the world darkened around us and the noise of the city suddenly filled my ears. It was only as we stepped into the street, I suddenly realized that I was still holding Patrick’s hand.

  I didn’t let go.

  Instinctively, I scanned for signs of trouble and my heart skipped a beat when my gaze landed on the brunette I.G.S. agent that had been talking to Nick at The Paper Heart. I squeezed Patrick’s hand and hissed under my breath. “We’ve got company. Beautiful brunette over your left shoulder, don’t look! It’s the Guild agent from yesterday.”

  Patrick gripped my fingers and tilted his head to one side as we hurried down the street. “Destiny, there’s something I should tell you…”

  “Are you taking the piss? Is that your favorite sentence? Gods.” I glared at him. “What now? Your mom is the queen? No, wait, that hottie brunette Guild agent is your mate?”

  “Izzy?” Patrick pulled a face. “No, she’s not my type. And Blackwood and her other mates would rip my throat out for even thinking it. And just—no. No.”

  When I realized I was beaming from ear to ear, a wave of panic burst over me, and I tried desperately to adopt a look of neutral nonchalance. I redirected my thoughts as Patrick headed down High Street. “Okay, what do you need to tell me?”

  Patrick inhaled. “I’ve always had the sight, always been able to retrieve snippets of the future. I started having these particular visions about a year ago when the first cases of missing children hit the news. Kids, sleeping kids—that was all I could see. And then you started to turn up in my head. And Balor, your dad, hunting for you. And all the images were mixed up in my mind with other things I was working on—”

  “Down the rabbit hole things?” I asked.

  “Yeah.” Patrick’s lips lifted to one side in a reluctant grin. “Down the rabbit hole stuff. And I couldn’t figure out how any of it fitted together, until last night in the Quarter. One little section of the puzzle just sort of clicked. And you’re right, we can’t do this alone. And we have to do it right because I need my head back, and you need to join the coven.”

  “And those kids need to be rescued. And whoever is taking them needs to be stopped. And brought to justice.” I narrowed my eyes. “And they need to rot in jail. Or be sent to Hades. Or be castrated. Or—”

  “Okay, easy now. You’re frightening the nice people,” Patrick said, patting my arm and nodding politely a woman queuing to use a cash machine.

  “Sorry.” I shook myself and realized with a start that we were standing on the corner of Quay Street. The doors of The Paper Heart were open and a knot of middle-aged people was streaming through the door. About ten people. With tired faces and tense shoulders. I sucked air in through my teeth. “Patrick, what do you want to tell me?”

  “We can’t do this alone, Destiny.” Patrick looked down the street to where Nick had come to stand at the door to the café and was staring straight at us. Patrick took a deep breath. “We’ve got to work with the Guild.”

  Chapter Eleven

  By the time Patrick had coaxed me down the street, Nick had been joined at the café door by three other men. The three strangers had the same posture and demeanor—backs straight, faces unreadable. I.G.S. agents, without a doubt. A strongly-built fair-haired man stood in the middle, flanked on one side by a huge man with skin so beautiful I wanted to touch it and eyes that reminded me of half-crescent moons. The man on the other side was slighter than the others and his hair fell onto his forehead in messy waves. The man with the smiley eyes and the guy with the boyish hair both dipped their heads slightly in greeting, but the strawberry-blond in the center simply stared at me unflinchingly. I lifted my chin and glared straight back at him as we approached the door—I didn’t need Patrick’s sixth sense to tell me this fecker was going to be a pain in my arse.

  “Patrick, we didn’t expect to hear from you so soon, but the Guild is grateful for your co-operation.” The blond man addressed Patrick, but he didn’t take his eyes off my face.

  Nick took a step closer and it took everything in my power not to turn and run. Patrick’s fingers gripped mine a little tighter. “We’re not here for the Guild, Blackwood. We’re here to find the kids the I.G.S. has failed to locate.”

  Blackwood. So the strawberry-blond asshole was one of the Guild woman’s mates. I flicked my gaze over the other two men and wondered if they were part of her mating pack too. As if on cue, she appeared at Patrick’s shoulder and nodded to him first and then me. “Trick, Destiny. Thank you for coming. We could badly use your skills, every route we take with this, we keep hitting a brick wall. And I know you’ve probably both got your own reasons for being here, but thank you.”

  I felt a grudging respect for the agent’s honesty but I still couldn’t open my mouth to respond. Nick’s shadow was like a demon, stealin
g my oxygen. The striking agent flicked her cell phone out of her pocket and checked the display. “Nine-Fifteen. We’ve kept the parents waiting long enough, let’s begin.” She shot Patrick a look. “Trick, can I speak to you for a moment before we begin?”

  “As long as you promise not to throw yourself at me, Izzy. I don’t want Blackwood to get his knickers in a twist,” Patrick said. He slid his fingers out of my grasp and gave me a reassuring smile.

  “Just meet me inside, Patrick.” Izzy’s expression was serious but the dimple in her right cheek suggested she might have a sense of humor hidden deep down. Blackwood, on the other hand, showed no sign of any such redeeming feature. I smirked to myself as he followed Patrick inside with a surly frown. Izzy gestured to the other two men. “Mac, will you make sure the testing equipment is running?” The guy with the messy hair disappeared into the café before she’d even finished her order.

  Izzy turned her focus to the huge man with the happy eyes. “Teddy, will you move the parents into the case room? Make sure everyone has coffee and something to eat—some of those parents look like they haven’t eaten in days. We need to keep an eye on that. Maybe ask Lan to shoot an email to Snow and see if headquarters will send us Mike from social support? May Smith was supposed to be handling family support, but I’m not happy with how the parents are presenting. I think they need more help. I want to get them linked up with the parents of the other missing kids too. The might find comfort in each other.”

  I folded my arms. Ask Lan to send an email—clearly Lan was I.G.S. too. Fucking secrets.

  “I’m on it, Izzy.” Teddy slapped Nick’s shoulder as he passed, and Izzy nodded to us both before she went inside, shutting the door of the café firmly behind her. I gritted my teeth at the unspoken order that I was to learn to play nicely with Nick and my fingers were tight as I yanked the door open again without glancing in Nick’s direction. Izzy could go shove her orders; I wasn’t part of her stupid Guild team.